One Last Day

Image credit; Casey Horner Unsplash

It were the last rays of the sun, golden and pious like they can clear a soul of all sins. Stratocumulus clouds filled the sky, like the last dream, luring a young girl into falling for death. The aura was calm, giving a sense of solitude. The sunflowers turned to the east anticipating the rise of another morning, but what if there is none?

“Watch out, Amara” Jade exclaimed and jumped in the puddle.

“Jade….” she says bitterly “You are seventeen!”


“Act like one then”

“You mean sit in bed all day like you” her eyes widened as she said this “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say this. I..I…I am such a fool”

“It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it” Amara says with an assuring smile on her face. “It’s getting dark, we should head back. Do you mind helping me with my wheelchair?”

“Absolutely not” Jade takes her back to her home.

Amara was diagnosed with Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) at an early age of 12. It is a chronic lung disease, causing inflammation in lungs, obstructing air flow. Her condition has been deteriorating since then. With Jade by her side, she has enjoyed her life to the fullest, although they have different personas. Her doctors have asked her family and friends to prepare themselves for the worst, they expected her to live for five years since the diagnosis.

They talked their hearts out on their way back home.

“Will you forget me after I am gone?”

“For the hundredth time, Amara, yes, I will forget you totally.” She chuckles. “But seriously, it’s not fair, you will die and I will mourn in pain.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save a seat for you in heaven, next to me”

“Have you considered going to Hell. That suits you more”

Jade takes Amara to her home. She stands in front of her, and leaps in for a hug with teary eyes “I will miss you” Jade says in a cracking voice. “I will”

“That’s rare. Miss cheerful is sobbing” Amara smiles in an attempt to comfort her. “Hey, it’s okay”

“Bye. See Ya” Jade says wiping off her tears and walks away.

It was a dreary morning, covered with grey clouds. Amara called up Jade, she didn’t pick up, she tried again but to her dismay it remained unanswered. She called for her caretaker, “Miss. Brown, I can’t reach out to Jade, has she left any message for me.”

“Yes, sweetie, she actually left a note for you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, Pear Blossom” Miss. Brown handed her the bouquet and a note which read “I will be out for a few days, Don’t miss me, Take care, Love Ya”

Amara was upset, thinking if she could ever meet Jade before she leaves her sufferings and sorrows behind.

They stayed in touch during first week, but rarely talked in the second week. The third week proved to be devastating. The church was filled with people dressed in black. The sun shone but the rays weren’t gleeful, now mornings will never bring a new hope.

She stood in front of her grave, she reminisced about the days filled with smiles, laughter and happiness, last day she met her, not knowing she would never see her again. She smiles through the pain, tears rolled down her eyes. A cool breeze made her feel the presence of her friend, assuring she is safe above.

She kept Zinnia on her grave, a symbol of thoughts of absent friends. The gravestone read “In the Loving Memory of Jade Martinez”

She looks up at the sky, covered with stratocumulus clouds, with teary eyes.

“I hope we can be together in the afterlife” She sighs deeply and closes her eyes.

Written in response to What do you see #144 by Sadje.

When I first saw the picture, it appeared to me as a path to Heaven. I tried my best to make my writing reader friendly.

It feels great to write after such a long time.

I hope you enjoyed it. Share your thoughts, I would love to hear them.

She ain’t the same

Photo by Kat Smith from Pexels

She was dressed in a taste of elegance yet looked like a soul lost in the tranquil woods. She was deep sunken in her book as she took a sip of her Darjeeling tea. She rolled her eyes through the pages.

“Excuse me, miss…..”

She lifted her face and came back to the world which she wished she could escape.

The man stopped abruptly with astonishment , his face turned pale. It was the first time he encountered something like this.

“umm..mmm…. sorry…” , it was all he could say, advancing away from her, vanishing into the streets.

She sighed and looked at two girls walking down the street, they were whispering as they indistinctly signaled towards her.

She heard the chime of the bell when a woman with a boy of around 6 years of age made their way out of the café. She smiled at the boy, the sweetest smile one could give, and the boy a little horrified but pleased with the gesture smiled back.

“Isn’t it tiring looking at shocked faces all day long”, a young man remarked as he dragged the chair in front of her and sat down.

“Yeah, I guess.” , she sighed. She was delighted by his appealing words. He had the voice of utmost patience and love, a dulcet tone.

“Lovely smell….umm.. of a rose, I presume” She exclaimed.

“Ah! can’t you pretend like you don’t know. You ruin it every time.” he insisted dramatically. “Great book, by the way, ‘Originality is Boldness’ “

“Oh! this. Makes me admire myself once again.” she gave a broken smile with her eyes haunted by the past.

He tried his best to comfort her, make her feel loved like she once used to be. The conversation went on for about an hour before they rose to bid goodbye. They exchanged glances and smiled.

She went back home, or maybe her world. It was dark, she switched on the lights and went to freshen up. She was in her room standing in front of the wall, facing a paper covering something. She believed in herself, with courage she took off the paper, to have a look at herself in the mirror. She recalled what has happened four months ago. She was walking down a busy street when all of a sudden a person all covered threw a voracious liquid on her, her face was burning, her screams were heart-wrenching. She could not recall much of the person, she was in agony too deep to see anything around her. The scene was dreadful, the dilemma she suffered was far beyond our imagination. The painful cries were a miserable question on humanity.

Her condition left her family in deep shock. The world now looked at her differently, nothing would remain the same, she knew it. She thought of giving up, hiding in the dark. But, for how long ? She had to come out, to become an inspiration for others like her and a threat to her assailant.

Written in Response to Three Things Challenge #753 by Pensitivity

Many of us might regard those strangers as rude, but the question is haven’t we done the same ? We usually don’t encounter an acid attack survivor, but when we do, we might probably turn our back and ignore or get a little frightened, it might happen but the thing that matters is that we don’t make them or any person feel insecure and inferior.

Feel free to share your opinions. I always love to hear from you : )

Beautiful but Broken

Image courtesy – Pinterest

The sunlit garden was beautiful with the aura of unbiased fragrance of the lovely china roses and snowy jasmines. There were some quiet pair of eyes peeping out the window. Those eyes were blue like the night sky and still like the depth of the darkest of oceans. Her eyes fell on her window sill, she gazed at the pots she planted a week ago, the pink azalea and golden lilies. The aroma was alluring but still calm.

The sun gently touched her face, brightening her golden hairs and adding a glow to her soft face. Her abrupt quietness was hesitating to disappear. She sat on the yellow chair couch like a gypsophila, innocent and so full of love. Then, that stillness in her eyes broke into a disheartening acceptance of her broken heart. That deep ocean raised its waters to let it go. She lifted her heavy eyes to the pale yellow wall to look upon the frame, the reason she turned her high spirits into an isolated lady.

Dakshali is our host for the Picture Prompt Plate.

Hope you liked the post…

Do comment and tell if you want a second part of the story.

Waiting eagerly for your responses…

#WRITEPHOTO – Stairway to Heaven

The Stairway – Image by KL Caley

For long I have been lingering in the darkness,

Now is my turn to see the light,

My fears captivated me,

Now is my chance to escape,

I have been sinful and miserable for long,

Let me bath in the pious light,

The devil’s been pushing me hard,

Now I am strong enough to hit back,

I see the light, it’s calling me,

I leave my Hell for His Heaven.

Kl Caley is our host for the Thursday Writephoto Challenge.

Hope you enjoyed..

Do check out more of my works : )

The Diary in Trash

Image by Jerzy Gorecki from Pixabay

I went out to throw a bag of trash when I discovered an old album, no… no.. a diary lying near the dustbins. At first, I tried to ignore it, ‘Who would pick up something lying near a trash or in a trash?’ But, the brown leather cover of the diary, its old and elegant looks tempted me and I picked it up before anyone could see it.

I rushed back home to read it. I went up to my room and sat on the chair in front of my table. I placed my treasure under the light of my study lamp and carefully examined the cover of the diary. I opened it up with much hesitation. The first page read ‘ Vivek Arya ‘.  

As I turned the pages I found many calculations, scribblings over many illegible words and sentences. I turned over and over until I reached a page holding the diagram of a cuboidal machine, about 7 feet high and 5 feet wide. I got the biggest surprise of my life when I read the words ‘Time-Travel successful‘. I couldn’t believe what I just read. ‘Why didn’t it make the headlines ? ‘ the question bothered me a lot. I got my answer on the next page.

I was intelligent enough to make it but not brave enough to travel. I didn’t have any bad intentions but there are many out there who have. This invention would bring about a change in the world, maybe a good or a bad.

 I looked upon the internet to search for him and hand over his diary to him. The internet said he went missing 10 years ago, on 10 October 2001, he hasn’t been found yet, some said he died, some even claimed he discovered something insane. I found his address. I gathered all the courage and went to see the machine. 

I slowly walked down the streets and ended up in front of a small and old house. The nameplate read ‘Vivek Arya’, it was him. I somehow found the machine hiding deep inside the house. 

There was the machine, surrounded by, papers, books, and a little light. I first thought of stepping into the machine and go to the future, to see how the world would be centuries later. But then I had even a better idea. I stepped inside the machine, followed the instructions to go into the past, set the date to October 9, 2001, plugged in the electricity switch, pressing many buttons, turning on numerous switches, somewhere I even had to some Mathematics, thank goodness I was a math student, set the date to October 10, 2001, kept the diary inside and wrote a note ‘Keep it safe, or it might end up in the trash : ) ‘. I stepped outside and pressed the blue button on the outer (Wonder it wasn’t red). The timer began ’00: 00: 59′ I ran outside as fast as I could, I was expecting a loud explosion but instead the electricity went off, the machine must have used a lot of Ampere. I ran off the house never to return again.

Written in response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt

Hope you enjoyed.

Keep reading…

World through the eyes of a kitten

Image credit; Iqbal Nuril @ Pixabay

I was not always like this, like you see me in the picture, so cute and adorable and prompting people to say “Awww” . I was thin and weak, lingering about peoples’ doors, trying to tempt them but it wasn’t worth it.

One day, when I was sleeping on a worn out cushion, thrown by a seemingly nice person (and yes, not all cats sleep in shoeboxes), I felt someone pick me up and place me in a nice and warm basket. I was too feeble to resist or to even look up that I decided to cooperate. I didn’t knew who that kind person was until I reached that house. The person gave me a nice bowl of milk. It was weeks since I drank such a delicious milk.

When I had regained my strength, I got up to look for the person. I was in a small room and to my surprise I was not alone, there were many cats and kittens, little and big, strong and feeble, black and white and brown, some with spots and some with stripes. All were staring at me, just like you, we also feel awkward so I watched all my steps carefully, a little nervous. I walked out of the room and you know, the world from down here looks completely different and difficult. Ah! It hurts looking up so high. The house was in complete darkness, it looked like that no one lived there. The old clock was making a creepy sound with every passing second. There were family photos hung on a wall, they all were looking happy, I guess what happened to them, why there is nobody in the house?

Then the unbearable silence broke into rageous argument. I heard two people arguing. One was a man and another was a woman. I ran towards the origin of the dispute. I saw a fuming lady and a little less fuming man arguing. It was not wrong to think that the man was the one who picked me up but to my surprise, the man walked out blabbering and the lady turned around, I was petrified to know that the lady was my master.

The lady didn’t kick me or throw me, she just picked me up and said very sweetly ” I’m sorry. You had to see me fighting on your very first day.”

Over the days I saw the lady bringing more and more cats in and feeding them with uttermost love. Sometimes, she gets into an argument with people but loved the animals a lot. She was a person with no care from humans but lots of love from animals. I still don’t know why she’s unable to make human friends or why she simply despises human. Maybe she broke up with her family or they didn’t really understand her. I don’t know, it can be anything. All I care about is that I grew into stronger and wild cat in her care and love.

Written in response to Sadje’s What do you see prompt #85.

Thanks for reading.

I would love to hear from you all.

There’s more to read , do check out.


Some dreams have to sacrifice

His admirers were cheering and their joy could be heard from a distant location. The dazzling spotlights made it difficult to comprehend the expressions of the audience but he could feel the happiness he gave while playing his erhu.

Then, out of nowhere, a subtle silence followed the loud appreciation, the audience disappeared, and all he heard was his erhu making a swan like ending. He heard the sound of a coin dropping into his collection bag and opened his eyes to see a tall young man dressed in black with a taste of elegance. The old man peeped through his wrinkled eyes and made a gesture of gratitude.

“So, you are homeless. ” The tall man spoke pointing towards the trolley bag behind the old erhu player. The old man reached for the collection bag, apparently not hearing.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interfere too much but maybe I can help.” The curious tall man told giving a little way to concern. “Do you have a home ?”

“Home? Everywhere is my home.” mentioned the old man.

“Everywhere?” the tall man was a bit confused.

“Yes, everywhere. Everywhere my music finds a listener “said the old man. “Young man, ” continued the erhu player “I see ambition in your eyes, just like I had in my youth”

“What landed you here ? ” asked the young man.

The question stole the light in his eyes and broke the fragile smile which was given by a small conversation with the man.

“There ” he said, pointing towards the hospital with his bow “I play my erhu for her.” he sighed.

“For who?”

“My daughter ” said the old man. “You see, I play my erhu for her, Akiyo. It makes her happy. I spent all my money for her, I left my hometown for her.”

The man bid him farewell and left the park as the old man continued to play his instrument, a sad tune, a goodbye music. The man entered the hospital the old man mentioned. He reached to the reception “Where can I find Miss Akiyo ? ” he asked.

“Yes sir, how may I help you ?” spoke a sweet voice from behind.

The man turned back to see a lady wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around her neck.

“I am Akiyo” said the lady or more precisely doctor.

The man stood shocked as he heard the erhu playing in his ears.

This story was in written in response to Sadje’s What do you see prompt #84 – May 31st, 2021.

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